


bring me to life

by growlery writes (growlery), pumpkinpodfic (thegreatpumpkin)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Bounty Hunters, Canon-typical peril, Case Fic, Community: pod_together, Gen, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Necromancy, Podfic, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Post-Finale, Undercover as Married, many liberties taken with how magic works in d&d, minor character undeath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/pseuds/pumpkinpodfic
Summary: There's necromancy afoot in sleepy, mundane Sandford, crowned Village of the Prime Material Plane two decades running. The Ghouligans are on the case.





	bring me to life

**Author's Note:**

> **writer's notes:** shoutout to thegreatpumpkin for being such a good collab partner, hot fuzz for inspiring the plot, my friend C for allowing me to appropriate his favoured catchphrase, and the mods for all their hard work. title is from the seminal classic by evanescence.

| 

## Streaming

## Download

  * [MP3](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2018/BringMeToLife.mp3) | **Size:** 48.2 MB | **Duration:** 54:03

  
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"We've got a mission," says Kravitz, his voice an echo as it comes out of both Lup and Barry's stones of farspeech at once.

"I knew we should have turned those off," Lup hisses, but she doesn't move off Barry's lap. "Lup and Barry can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message after the tone. Uh, beeeeeeep."

"What kind of mission?" Barry asks, like a total goober, and Lup groans.

"The chasing necromancers kind," Kravitz says, and Lup perks up.

"I'm listening," she says, grabbing her stone. "Tell me the deets."

"There, uh." Kravitz coughs. "There aren't a lot more deets. The Raven Queen isn't always the most forthcoming with these things. A lot of cryptic dreams, weird visions, appearing in your toast."

"Well that's helpful," Lup says, though secretly she thinks that's kind of badass. "What do we know, then?"

“Have you heard of Sandford?”

“No, what the hell’s a Sandford?” Lup says, at the same time Barry says, “Of course!”

Lup turns to the man she has voluntarily decided to spend the rest of her unlife with, who smiles bashfully back at her. “Village of the Prime Material plane two decades running,” he explains. “It's important to keep updated on current events.”

Lup shakes her head, unspeakably fond. “If it's so perfect, what does it need us for?”

“Sandford famously has little to do with magic,” Kravitz begins, but he's interrupted by Taako’s loud voice saying, “Except it's gone from zero to a fuck ton in like, a month.”

“Taako?” Lup screeches. “This is reaper business, what are you doing on the line?”

“Taako,” Kravitz says, pained.

“You were taking too long,” Taako announces. “Too much talking, not enough taking down bad guys.”

“Taako will be helping us with the mission,” Kravitz explains. “We need more information, and we can only find out so much from the outside.”

“We're doing the undercover married trope,” Taako says gleefully. “We'll move into the village, gain the trust of the inhabitants and steal their secrets. It's a classic of the genre.”

“Why can't we be undercover marrieds?” Lup says, affronted.

“You need to do lich things,” Taako says dismissively. “Like lurking. Lich lurking.” Lup makes grumbly noises, and Taako soothes, “Lulu, you love doing lich things.”

“I do love doing lich things,” she admits, grudgingly. “This better not be a regular gig, Taako.”

“Are you kidding? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You’ll be begging me to come back. Do you guys have a name? We should have a name. Merle, Magnus and I are the-”

“I'm gonna stop you right there because I don't give a shit,” Lup says, and Taako beneficently nods his head like, fair enough.

They toss a couple of suggestions back and forth, and then Kravitz says, “Ghouligans,” in a hushed tone, and Lup repeats, decisive, “Ghouligans.”

=

"What do you think, babe?" Taako drawls, turning to Kravitz with a flourish. "Beige enough for suburbia?"

Kravitz frowns. "Did you cut your hair or something?"

"Don't act cute," Taako says, like he isn't thrilled to his very core, and Kravitz grins.

"Maybe more magnolia than beige, but it'll do," he says. "The rounded ears are a good touch. My turn?"

"Uh no," Taako retorts, "it would just glance right off your perfect face and I'm not wasting a spell slot when there's necromancy afoot."

Kravitz looks dubious. He only looks more dubious when Taako summons Garyl for them to ride into the village, but Taako smiles winningly at him and he only shakes his head, fond.

Sandford is just as Taako was expecting, which is to say boring as fuck. There's one main street with the usual village accoutrements and then nothing else, just fields and fields and fields. He doesn't know how people live like this, but he supposes the villagers seem happy enough. Maybe too happy – as they ride past, everyone they past waves and/or smiles and/or gushingly welcomes them to the village, do they like it so far, do they need any help moving in, oh they're going to just love it here!

Taako smiles back at them, of course, never one to disappoint a crowd, but he leans back and whispers, “It's like they're robots. What the fuck?”

“They're just friendly,” Kravitz whispers back, and Taako shivers at the breath on his neck. He twists around in a not particularly comfortable way to land a quick, sloppy kiss on Kravitz's mouth.

“Oh, hell no,” comes a voice, almost a snarl, and Taako whirls around.

“You got a problem, buckaroo?” he asks, delighted. He hears Kravitz sigh, feels one hand grip his waist.

“You're godsdamn right I do,” the voice continues, which turns out to belong to a stout human man who could be anywhere between thirteen and seventy seven years old. Taako's not very good with humans; he's pretty sure Magnus is older than Angus, at least. “You trekked your horse into my petunias!”

Taako looks down. Garyl is nowhere near the man's precious petunias, abloom in a bush splaying out marvellously from a garden to their left. He may, very slightly, be craning around to munch on a flower or two, but that's neither here nor there. 

Garyl pulls his head back, petals stuck between his teeth, and says, “Your petunias trekked into my mouth, old man.”

Petunia Man yelps and jumps back, and Taako winks at him and gallops away.

Their new homestead is a quaint little cottage not unlike the ones they passed on their ride in, ivy crawling up the stone and hanging baskets trailing bright flowers. Taako grudgingly admits it is, kind of, pretty, but as they dismount Garyl and unload the few belongings they brought with them, he frowns.

“Whose place was this,” he asks, “before you, uh, _requisitioned_ it?”

“I bought it with real, actual money, thank you very much,” Kravitz says. “It was just a guy. A now dead guy, conveniently for us. Why do you ask?”

Taako says in a low, mysterious voice, “My magic senses are tingling.”

They sweep the cottage. There’s a low, steady undercurrent of arcane energy everywhere they go, but it is, as far as they can tell, neutral to benevolent. There’s nothing that would point to this being the former domicile of a necromancer.

In fairness, Taako’s not entirely sure what _would_ point to this being the former domicile of a necromancer, and he says as much to Kravitz, who laughs. 

“We’re thinking about giving out literature,” he says dryly. “Ten Signs Your Loved One May Be Secretly Raising The Dead.”

“Necromancers In _Your_ Village? It’s More Likely Than You Think,” Taako says. 

They do find a map of Sandford, handily indicated by a fancily lettered title. There’s nothing remarkable about it, aside from _where_ they find it: tacked up inside a concealed hole in the wall of the master bedroom, just big enough for the two of them to fit snugly inside. Honestly, Taako deserves an award for not being distracted by the press of Kravitz’s fine, fine body against his. 

They look at the map for a few more moments, as if a clue will magically reveal itself to them if they just keep at it for long enough. Which… huh. Taako narrows his eyes, then closes the door and casts Ultraviolet Light. 

“Huh,” Kravitz says, staring wide-eyed at the map, which is now glowing. There’s a line drawn straight through the village, scribbles that look like handwriting, and a giant X marked on a manor house which backs onto the graveyard. 

“That’s a bit on the nose,” Taako says, “don’t you think?”

Before Kravitz can say anything, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” he says, pushing the door open, “I don’t trust you to interact with strangers.”

“I,” Taako says, offended, “am a motherfucking delight,” but he does hang back a little as he follows Kravitz downstairs, draping himself across the banister. 

“Hi there!” says the woman at the door. She looks about fifty, or maybe fifteen, and she has a wide smile and a face that can only be described as jolly. Taako, grudgingly, admits Kravitz made the right call. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” she continues, “I saw you moving in and just wanted to introduce myself. My name’s Marjorie, and I’m the head of the neighbourhood watch. I’m positive you’ll just love it here in Sandford, but if you do run into any little difficulties, just come to me and I’ll sort it right out.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Marjorie,” Kravitz says, slipping smoothly into an easy charm that makes her swoon. “I’m Kravitz, and this is my husband, Taako.” He turns slightly, hand out to gesture for Taako, but Taako’s already attaching himself to Kravitz’s side, smiling his best acerbic smile. “Thank you so much for welcoming us to your lovely village.”

Marjorie’s smile grows impossibly wider. “Not at all,” she says. “It’s my pleasure to make sure Sandford is a safe and joyous place to live.” _Joyous_. Under his Disguise Self spell, Taako’s eyes are rolling out of his skull. “It’s been voted Village of the Prime Material Material for two decades running, you know.”

“Has it?” Taako says blandly. “We weren’t aware.”

Taako feels Kravitz’s almost imperceptible wince, but Marjorie is unbuoyed. “Jeremiah’s having a garden party tomorrow,” she continues. “The whole village is invited, and we’d just love to have you along so everyone else can welcome you too.”

Taako promptly nixes _robots_ and replaces it with _cult_. “Of course,” he says. “We’d simply love to come. Now, if you’d excuse us, we have _so much_ unpacking to do, you understand? Have a _marvellous_ day.”

He doesn’t slam the door in her face; he slowly, while maintaining eye contact and a dead smile, shuts the door in her face. 

“How do you even become the Village of the Prime Material Plane,” he mutters. “Like, what's the criteria. Who judges that shit. Hey Ango,” he says, into his stone of farspech. “Can you check something for me real quick?” 

There's no response, and Taako frowns. 

“Angus,” he says. “ _Angus_. It's Taako, your number one hero and ultimate source of validation?”

Still nothing, other than Kravitz sighing heavily beside him. 

“Shit,” Taako says, finally. “Boy detective would've been super useful for this whole mystery thing.”

=

“If you were raising the dead in a tiny village where everybody knows everybody else's business,” Lup muses, “where would you conduct your villainy?”

“Cloaking spell on the house,” Barry says without missing a beat. “Hide in plain sight.”

Lup raises her eyebrows, delighted at the speed of Barry's response. “Takes a lot of power to sustain that kind of spell,” she says. “Mundane humans or not, surely someone would notice.”

They're hanging out in the graveyard, because it's a massive cliché, and if there's one thing Lup knows about villainous magic users it's that they fucking love clichés. Also there's nobody around, which helps with not being discovered doing their whole covert operation thing. 

They're in the crypt, which Lup was delighted to discover, only to wilt in disappointment when it turned up completely vanilla, not even a _trace_ of magic. It’s still a motherfucking crypt, though, so she’s lying across the – empty, more’s the pity – sarcophagus. 

“More importantly,” Lup continues, “where would you keep the bodies? No way you're sneaking a bunch of undead past Nosy Norma Next-Door. The smell _alone_.”

“Even more importantly,” Barry says, “what are you doing with the bodies? What is the point? What is the _why_ of the thing?”

Lup sits up abruptly. “There’s too many questions,” she says. “Too bad we don’t have anybody who could reasonably tell us, like, _all of the answers_.” 

She aims a glare vaguely skywards, then makes a decision. “I wanna try something,” she says, determined. She jumps down, grabbing Barry’s hand to pull him outside, settle in a patch of sunlight in the middle of the graveyard. 

“Merle showed me this cool trick,” she says, “watch this,” and gets out the music box from her bag of holding. Barry looks confused, and starts to open his mouth, but he closes it gamely when Lup raises a finger to her own lips and winks at him.

She winds up the music box a few times, then a few times more, and when she lets it go, a few notes start to play, slowly building into a song, an agonising voice crooning over it about saviours and black parades. 

The music finishes. 

Nothing happens.

“Uh,” Barry says, frowning at the music box, “can I ask what that is now?” and Lup shrugs.

“It’s supposed to summon the Raven Queen,” she says. “If you do it right, and you believe in your heart of hearts, etc etc, cleric bullshit.” She frowns. “I probably shouldn’t call it cleric bullshit.”

“Yeah, aren’t you thinking of multiclassing?” Barry says, biting back a grin, and Lup hushes him. 

“Okay,” she announces, and winds up the music box again. It was her first time trying. Of course it wouldn't go right. Merle promised her it would; it’s some kind of bardic magic from devotees of The Raven Queen, My Alchemical Romance, and this song is said to be her favourite. 

The music plays. Nothing happens. The music continues playing. Nothing continues to happen.

And then, just when Lup is starting to reconsider trusting Merle Highchurch about _anything_ , the wind changes. It’s subtle at first, rushing faster through the air, but after a few moments, it becomes clear that with it, it carries a voice. 

“ _Everythiiiiing_ ,” the wind says, “ _is not as it seeeeems. Look beyond the facaaaaaade_.”

“Is that it?” Lup whisper-yells. “You're not gonna give us anything concrete _at all_?”

“ _Maybeee if your rooooll weren't total garbaaaaage_ ,” the wind says. “ _Better luck next tiiiiiiiiime, binch_.”

“Godsdammit,” Lup says, half frustration, half admiration. 

“You’re,” Barry says, and there’s something in his voice that makes Lup turn, her heart already clenching. He has that look on his face that she can barely stand to look at because it makes her feel like she’s burning brighter and harder than her magic ever will. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, “you know that, right?”

“Natch,” she says, all casual like, but she’s already moving to kiss that look off Barry’s face. 

Of course, that’s when her stone of farspeech vibrates with Taako’s frequency. Lup groans. 

“This better not be a recurring bit,” she mutters, pulling out the stone so it can read the message Taako’s sent. 

“ _Found a treasure map. X marks the spot at that big ol’ house behind the graveyard. Definitely a red herring. K and I have v important undercover duties so can’t investigate. Tell us if you find anything xoxo T._ ”

Lup looks up. They noticed the old manor house looming in the distance when they first arrived, but didn’t think much of it. It seemed just a little _too_ big and grey and mysterious. 

“Wanna go catch some fish?” Barry says, and Lup grins, goes, “ _Look beyond the facaaaaaade_.”

The closer they get to the manor, the weaker the boundary between the astral plane and the prime material plane feels. It’s not obvious; they probably wouldn’t notice if they weren’t specifically looking out for it, but they are, and they do. Lup exchanges a glance with Barry, and wants to say something about herrings and redness, but she doesn't know enough about fishing to make a good joke. 

They blow two spell slots casting invisibility and levitation to get them over the fence into the manor’s excessively large, luxurious lawn, but it’s worth it. As they float to the ground, Lup feels… something. It’s not a something Lup has a word for, but it’s a something she’s intimately familiar with. Energy, extinguished from this earth; energy, relighting the flame. 

She looks at where she knows Barry is, reaches out a hand to grab his hand, and grins. 

=

“Wait just a goddamn minute,” Taako says, holding up a hand to stop Kravitz in his tracks halfway to their destination. His eyes narrow. “I recognise those petunias.”

“Oh, no,” Kravitz says, sighing, and Taako says, grimly delighted, “Oh yes. Garden Party Jeremiah is Petunia Man.”

“Can you, like,” Kravitz says, trailing Taako to the front door. “Can you at least not involve magic when you cause a scene?”

“For you, babe,” Taako announces, “I’ll do just about anything,” and raps smartly on the door. 

Petunia Man/Garden Party Jeremiah opens it, and Taako braces himself for the deeply satisfying bitchfit that is about to occur. Every village needs its petty, largely baseless nemesis storyline; he's doing Sandford a service. 

“Jeremiah, I presume,” he drawls, holding out his most blandly average Charlotte Royale as an offering. “Marjorie invited us. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jeremiah smiles. It is a smile not unlike Marjorie’s in that it is wide and bright and unsettling cheerful. “Not at all,” Jeremiah says, _like he actually means it_. “I’m ever so sorry about the business with the petunias, and I’m so glad to have an opportunity to apologise in person!”

Taako opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Taako might actually be speechless. 

“No apology necessary,” Kravitz assures Jeremiah, who shakes his head vigorously. 

“Apology necessary,” he says firmly. “It was not neighbourly of me at all! A Sandford resident should know better.”

“I can’t believe this,” Taako hisses, when they’re safely inside, hanging out by the food table. Because that’s the best place to eavesdrop on conversations and pick up gossip, of course. No one’s come up to talk to them, despite what Marjorie said about everyone wanting to welcome them, but plenty of people have gushed over his Charlotte Royale. Fools probably don't even realise it's underbaked. “How _underhanded_ \- I’ll get him for this. He took me offguard, this time, but two can play at killing with kindness.”

Kravitz is frowning. Kravitz has been frowning since they got through the door. 

“What is it,” Taako says, putting down his only barely heaped plate. “You’ve got the doom-and-gloom face on. Lay it on me.”

“It’s just,” Kravitz begins, and sighs. “That was weird, right?”

“That’s what I’ve been _saying_ ,” Taako says, and Kravitz shakes his head. 

“Something was different,” he says. “I can’t- I don’t know what it was, exactly.”

“Reaper senses,” Taako says, and Kravitz shakes his head, laughing a little. “Do you want us to go talk to him? We can go talk to him.”

“We should be mingling more,” Kravitz agrees, not even glancing at Taako’s plate, because Kravitz is the best fake-husband-slash-real-boyfriend. “Somebody here has to know something.”

“Like whoever lived in that house that our old friend was concerned with,” Taako says, trying out a voice, a sort of hardboiled detective kind of burr. 

Kravitz just looks at him. Taako sighs. In his normal voice, he says, “Someone at least knows how he died.”

“How who died?” says Marjorie from behind them. She must be incredibly lightfooted to have got past Taako’s passive perception; he tries not to scowl at her, and only vaguely succeeds. 

“Marjorie,” he says, “delighted to see you. My husband was just telling me about the previous resident of our wonderful home. He mentioned his unfortunate demise, and I confess I am quite curious.”

“Oh,” Marjorie says, finally looking something less than cheerful. “That was quite unfortunate indeed. Aberforth was a lovely man, a newcomer to Sandford like yourselves, but very old and frail. I think something of the air here didn’t quite agree with him; he got horribly sick, and we were unable to do anything for him.” She looks down, blinking away tears. “Such a terrible shame. Even in the short time he lived here, he gave so much to the village.”

“Tragic,” Kravitz agrees, sharing a glance with Taako that Taako can’t quite read. “Loss is a difficult thing; thank you for sharing your grief with us. We’ll leave you in peace.”

Marjorie nods tearfully, and Kravitz steers Taako away to a secluded corner of the garden. 

“What is it?” Taako asks. 

“Aberforth wasn’t old,” Kravitz tells him, low and urgent. “I get a sense of people from the places they’ve frequented, an impression of their lives like a layer over things they touched. Nothing specific, but enough to know he was barely past maturity.”

Taako frowns. “Okay, babe,” he says. “Not saying I don’t believe you, but Marjorie wasn’t lying.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Taako says, and then thinks about it and amends, “Eighty five per cent sure. I won’t deny there’s a possibility that she bamboozled me.”

“Or,” Kravitz says, “she thinks she’s telling the truth.”

Taako’s eyes go wide for two separate reasons. “Quick,” he hisses, “kiss me,” and throws himself into Kravitz’s arms. 

Kravitz startles but gets with the program immediately; he dips Taako at the waist and presses his mouth to Taako’s mouth in a sweet, passionate kiss. Taako’s heart does several somersaults, and he gets so lost in it, in Kravitz’s arms around him, Kravitz’s tongue against his tongue, that he forgets why it was so immediately necessary. 

Someone clears their throat. Kravitz abruptly lifts Taako back to a standing position, definitely not at all faking how flustered he is. Taako smirks at Marjorie, bright red in front of them; he wasn’t going to let her sneak up on him twice.

“So sorry for interrupting,” she says. 

“It is I who must apologise,” Taako says grandly. “I couldn’t wait another moment to be alone with my darling Kravitz. You know how it is with newlyweds.”

“It’s quite all right,” Marjorie says, recovering some of her seemingly endless cheer. “We were just wondering where you’d got to.”

“Here,” Taako says, “in each other’s arms. Now,” he says, “if you’d excuse us, I’m going to need more than just a moment with my husband.” He drops a lascivious wink, which makes Marjorie turn even redder. “Thank you for inviting us to this lovely party. We’ve had a wonderful time.”

“You,” Marjorie says, but Taako’s already striding away, hand in Kravitz’s hand. 

“Was that really necessary?” Kravitz mutters, and Taako says, “Are you really complaining?”

Everyone suddenly seems to want to talk to them, now that they’re leaving, but Taako effortlessly bats them away with a smile and a, “A lovely party, really, wonderful to meet you, we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“I’m not complaining,” Kravitz says, when they’re safely out of earshot of Jeremiah’s. He still looks gratifyingly flustered, and Taako grins. “It was just more of a scene than we needed to make.”

Taako shrugs. “It seemed the most efficient,” he says. “A distraction that also sells our cover.”

“Taako,” Kravitz says, patiently, “we’re in a real relationship. There’s nothing to sell.”

Taako sighs, incredibly put upon, but doesn’t press the issue. Into his stone of farspeech, he says, “We’ve made some discoveries. Time for the Ghouligans to reconvene.”

=

“Nice place,” Lup says, jumping down from the windowsill, and Taako shrieks. 

“Could you not have come through the front door,” he says, glowering at her. “And where’s Barold?”

“Coming through the front door,” Lup says cheerfully, just as the doorbell rings. Taako rolls his eyes at her, but she wasn’t quiet shimmying up the drainpipe to get to his bedroom window; he definitely heard her coming. 

“Barry’s here,” Kravitz says, coming through the door with him, “I don’t know where- oh. Hey Lup.”

Lup waves at him and winks at Barry. “So what are these discoveries you’ve made?” she asks. “I’m dying to know about these _important undercover duties_.”

“We have a suspect,” Kravitz says quickly, as if heading off whatever Taako might have been about to say, and starts to explain. 

Lup’s frowning before he’s even finished. “So, wait,” she says, “you think this Aberforth enchanted everyone in the village to think he was some old guy, faked his own death, and then, what, hung around to set up a side venture in necromancy? For what purpose, my dude?”

“Why does anybody ever decide to meddle with death,” Kravitz says, voice entirely level. Lup doesn’t bristle, because Kravitz is her brother’s life partner and also her friend, but she does look at him sort of hard. 

“It would explain a lot,” Taako says. “Like why everyone in the village is so _weird_. They’re so- cheerful. And polite!”

“Whoa,” Lup says, alarmed. “That is super weird.”

“We went to the house,” Barry says, glancing at Lup. “It’s a weak point in the boundary with the astral plane. We felt something cross it. Something died, and something came back.”

“X marks the spot after all,” Taako says, triumphant. 

“That map,” Barry says, “can I see it?”

Taako waves a hand, and part of the wall starts to come away like a door; Lup rolls her eyes at his dramatics. 

Barry ducks into the hole, emerging a moment later with a map in his hands, torn a little at the edges. He lays it down on the floor, kneeling in front of it, then gives it a sharp tap. Parts of it start to glow, and Lup crouches down beside him to get a better look. 

“That’s a leyline,” he says, running his finger along a line that’s been drawn right through the village. Right through the house. “See these markings? And, of course, the X marks the place of power.”

“Okay,” Lup has to admit, “ _that’s_ worth hanging around for.”

“We need to get in that house,” Barry says grimly. “Who lives there, is it someone you’ve met?”

“Uh,” Taako says. “Pass?”

Barry and Lup both look at Kravitz, who just coughs. 

“Unbelievable,” Lup says, shaking her head. “Did you find out _anything_ useful?”

“We found out about Aberforth!” Taako protests. “Anyway, it’s fine. We can just waltz up to the front door and go on about what a lovely house it is, we’re so enamoured of its rustic charm, is it possible we could come in just for a moment to see the no doubt equally beautiful inside? They’ll probably give us a grand tour.”

“If you’re covering the house, we should check the astral plane,” Barry says. “That something that died might still be there.”

“Aww, yeah,” Lup says, “astral projection! We can leave our bodies in your spare room, right?”

“Knock yourselves out,” Taako says, already ushering them out of the room. “Bedtime now. We’ll see you cool kids tomorrow.”

=

They head out bright and early the next day to the manor house, and by bright and early Taako of course means midday. Any earlier would be suspicious, and besides, Taako's not about to sacrifice something as crucial as sleep just to bring a villainous magic user to justice.

Taako’s ready to jump right into his prepared speech as they ring the doorbell, but the words leave his mouth when the door opens. 

“Marjorie,” he says, genuinely delighted. This is gonna be even easier than he thought. “Kravitz and I were just admiring your home - not that we knew it was yours, but it seems obvious now that you’d live in such a beautiful place.”

“Oh, thank you, Taako,” Marjorie says, beaming at both of them. “Would you like to see the inside? I can give you a tour, if you like.”

Taako exchanges a triumphant look with Kravitz. Well, his look is triumphant; Kravitz is more exasperatedly fond. 

“We would love that,” Kravtiz says, “thank you, Marjorie.”

By the third straight minute of Marjorie gushing about the cornicing in her living room, Taako decides enough is enough. 

“Oh, darling,” he says loudly, grabbing Kravitz’s arm, “I’ve just remembered I’ve left the oven on, I’m so silly, I’ll have to run back and make sure the house is still standing.”

Kravitz raises his eyebrows; Taako was supposed to wait at least ten minutes before trying to slip away, but he was going to completely blow their cover by falling asleep on Marjorie’s antique chaise longue. Taako attempts to communicate this with his own eyebrows, and he’s not sure Kravitz entirely understands, but he does shake his head with exaggerated fondness. 

“He does this all the time,” Kravitz says to Marjorie, like he’s letting her in on the joke, and she tuts at Taako, her eyes sparkling. 

“I can show myself out,” Taako assures her, already on his feet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

As soon as the door’s closed behind him, he exhales heavily. “Too much pep,” he mutters, “it’s unnatural.”

He takes slow, deliberate steps towards the front door, opens it, waits a moment, and then closes it again. There are three different sources of magic he can detect: the druidic power of the leyline, weak but still flowing; wild sorcery, weaker still; and necromancy, pulsing behind a door on the other side of the hall. 

“Gotcha,” Taako says. 

He’s just reached the door, hand closing on the doorknob, when something very heavy hits the back of his head. 

“Wha,” he manages, before everything goes black. 

=

“Why aren’t we always doing this?” Lup says, arms crossed behind her back as she floats horizontally down the street. “Having a physical form is nice and all, but this? I could get used to this.”

Barry shakes his head at her, entirely vertical as he follows along. “I’d rather not,” he says, “in case we can’t make it back.”

“Grim,” Lup says, “but fair. I don’t see a newly deceased spirit anywhere, do you?”

“Nope,” Barry says easily, allowing her the abrupt change of subject. “Could have passed on already.”

Lup hums. “We should check the graveyard just in case.”

“You just wanna see how cool it looks from here,” Barry says, and Lup grins, briefly spreading her arms to accept the accusation. 

It doesn’t look too different, at first glance. It’s the same rows of headstones, surrounding a crypt in the centre. But she floats closer to one of the graves and sees… not a spirit, but perhaps the outline of one. The other graves are the same, but it’s the crypt that’s the most interesting. She can almost make out forms, but there are so many lines that it could be just her eyes trying to find patterns. 

The crypt, which was empty. 

She floats through the sarcophagus; it’s still empty, but she keeps going. She expects layers of marble and stone, but just underneath a single layer of marble is earth. 

She keeps going. 

More earth, whispers of dead and dying things. 

She keeps going. 

Bones. Rotted flesh. Half a spirit clinging to the earth. 

Lup flies up to air and draws in a gasping breath she doesn’t need. Barry’s there, like he was waiting for her, and his eyes go wide when she appears. 

“Lup, what happened,” he says, “what was down there?”

She takes another deep breath, then says, “Aberforth.”

They come back to their bodies, and it’s disorienting for just a moment before Lup jumps to her feet. 

“Taako! Kravitz! Pick up the fucking stone, one of you,” she mutters. 

“Lup?” It’s Kravitz, sounding frantic. “Lup, is Taako with you?”

“Why would Taako be with us? Isn’t he with you?”

“He,” Kravitz says, and stops. “Where are you?”

“Kravitz,” Lup says, slowly. “Where’s Taako.”

Barry takes the stone from her and says, “We just got back to our bodies. We found-”

Lup snatches it back. “What,” she says. “Happened. To My. Brother.”

There’s no answer; instead, Kravitz does that reaper trick where part of the air opens up like a chasm, and he jumps out of it. Lup tries to launch herself at him, but Barry’s already grabbed her, and she doesn’t struggle in his hold. 

“He slipped away to investigate the house,” Kravitz says. “We were supposed to meet up back here.”

“Do you think he’s still inside?” Barry asks, and Kravitz shrugs helplessly. 

“I can’t get a read on him,” he says. “It’s like something’s blocking it, me, him. I don’t know.” He swallows. “But I’m pretty sure he is. That was the first place I went when he wasn’t here, but I couldn’t get inside. There’s some kind of ward on the house.”

“Makes sense,” Barry says. “Places of power usually have protection.”

“And if you’re using it to raise the dead,” Kravitz says, “you probably don’t want the grim reaper to be able to just waltz in.”

“Do you think it’d keep us out too?” Barry asks, and Kravitz shrugs. 

“It’s worth a try.”

“I have a better idea,” Lup says. “We burn this motherfucking village to the ground.”

Kravitz massages his temples. “That is a terrible idea for multiple reasons,” he says, “chiefly that we are all, including Taako, still in this motherfucking village.”

“You said you can’t get a read on him,” Lup says tonelessly. “What if he’s already dead.”

Kravitz flinches, and Barry looks at her hard. “We’d have seen him,” he says. “We were just there. _Lup_. We’d have seen him.”

Lup takes a long, deep breath, and blows it out through her teeth. 

“So he’s still in the house,” she says. 

“Aberforth must want him for something,” Kravitz says. 

“Here’s the thing,” Lup says, “Aberforth isn’t our guy, unless he’s somehow raising the dead from beyond the grave.”

“Shit,” Kravitz says, which just about sums it up, really. 

“Kravitz,” Barry says softly, “whose house was it?”

Kravitz frowns, and then his eyes go wide. “ _Shit_.”

=

Taako comes to in Marjorie’s living room. He knows it’s Marjorie’s living room, because that cornicing is now permanently imprinted on his brain, and because the woman herself is sitting in an armchair opposite him, smiling. 

“I suppose I should have seen this coming,” Taako says. He’s gratified that he’s able to speak, given that he appears to be under a very comprehensive immobilisation spell. “What does he want with me, then? Don’t tell me, it’s the old _drain the magic out of the wizard_ trick. A classic of the genre.”

Marjorie tilts her head, looking puzzled. “He?”

“There’s no need to keep pretending,” Taako tells her kindly. “We know about Aberforth.”

Marjorie looks at him for another moment, still puzzled, before she starts laughing. “Oh, my,” she says. “Oh, goodness. You really don’t have a clue what’s going on, do you?”

Taako frowns. This is going off script a little, but he can improvise. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Sandford,” Majorie begins, “has been the Village of the Primaterial Plane for-”

“Two decades, yes,” Taako says, “I’m aware. Who judges that, by the way? Just out of curiosity.”

Marjorie ignores him. “That prestigious title was not easily won,” she says. “This village was a lawless, violent disgrace twenty five years ago. I cleaned it up.”

“Literally and figuratively, I presume,” Taako says. He tries to break free of the hold she has on him, but it’s too strong. “So what flavour are you? Sorcerer? Wizard? Warlock?” He gives her an appraising look. “You’re definitely not a druid, or you’d have been more careful with the leyline. I sensed wild sorcery, but that’s not you, is it?”

Marjorie smiles; it’s nowhere near as bright or wide as her usual, and Taako likes it even less. “That was our old friend Aberforth,” she says. “May he rest in peace.”

“Not so old,” he says, “and seemingly not a friend.”

“He gave so much to the village,” Marjorie says, and Taako isn’t sure if it’s a conscious echo or not. 

“You did the _drain the magic out of the wizard_ trick on him, huh,” he says. He tries to break free; the spell holds. “Hell of a business you’re running here.”

“That’s just a side venture,” she says, preening a little. “Helping to fuel the main attraction, if you will. It’s really quite something, if I say so myself.”

“Great,” Taako mutters. “Because what this scene really needed was more monologuing.”

“You didn’t notice anything different with Jeremiah,” Marjorie says. “After all, you did only meet him once. But he was terribly rude to you and your husband, and we couldn’t have that, could we? Sandford welcomes everyone who wishes to make a home here.”

Taako sighs. “Look, Marj,” he says, “can I call you Marj? You’re clearly enjoying having a captive audience to recount your evil genius to, but-”

His mouth freezes around the next word, lips parted to form an _I_. 

“Much better,” Marjorie says. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you necromancy is a delicate art. The leyline helps, of course, but it’s hard enough raising a being from the dead. It’s harder still to bring them back almost exactly as they were, just… better. Nicer. More… cooperative.”

 _Well, fuck, Marj_ , Taako thinks, because not being able to speak doesn’t stop him having something to say. _That’s one way to deal with your rowdy neighbours._

“I’ve almost got it perfect,” Marjorie says. “I barely have to interfere at all. I just need to make sure it keeps going, and I can’t do that while the leyline is recovering its power. I need to let it rest. I need another source.”

 _Well, fuck,_ Taako thinks again, and puts everything he has into breaking free. 

A fire bolt smashes through the window and sets Marjorie’s coffee table alight, and Taako can move again. Marjorie screeches. Lup yells, “Duck!”

“Bit late for that!” Taako yells back, and he’s running, launching himself at the window. Marjorie’s furiously readying a spell, and he doesn’t wanna stick around to find out what it is. 

It turns out that throwing your body through glass hurts kind of a fuck ton, and it hurts even more when you land unceremoniously on the ground because none of your very capable, very gifted companions deign to catch you. 

It hurts a little less when two pairs of arms pull him to his feet. Lup pulls him into a hug first, very much not minding his cuts and bruises, very much ignoring his loud complaints. He hugs her back just as hard, then kind of melts into Kravitz’s arms. 

“No hug, Barold?” he shouts, when Kravitz finally lets him go. 

Barry doesn’t break his intense staring contest with the house. “I have to concentrate to take down the wards,” he says. “I’m really fucking glad you’re okay, Taako.”

“Let it burn,” Lup says. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“We still have a job to do,” Barry says, unwavering. “And I’m not letting this place die.”

Lup lets out a long breath. Taako takes her hand. “Fine,” she says. “But I’m not putting out the fire.”

“We might have bigger problems,” Kravitz says, and Taako turns. 

“Oh, great,” he says, because half the village is advancing on them with makeshift weapons, running the gamut from a dessert mixer to a garden hoe. “Marjorie’s set her minions on us.”

“You deal with them,” Lup says, “I’m gonna get Marj.”

=

She doesn’t mess around, this time. She floats up and out of her body, straight towards the house where she can _feel_ Marjorie is, only to bounce right off it. 

“Fuck,” Lup says, “mother _fuck_ ,” because it doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it feels deeply existentially weird to come up against that kind of resistance. 

Taako’s mage hand is pouring water on the flames, but the house is still very much on fire; Marjorie won’t stay inside for long. Lup floats up, up above the house, skims over the roof down towards the truly ridiculous garden, and waits. 

Marjorie bursts out the back door with a satchel and a travelling coat. Lup smiles. 

Marjorie runs through the weakest point of the boundary between the two planes, and Lup reaches through. Marjorie’s body falls to the ground. Marjorie’s spirit slips through Lup’s fingers. 

Lup comes back to her body. The fighting she had glimpsed earlier has crashed to a halt; the villagers look dazed, confused. She wasn’t sure if they’d still be alive if Marjorie wasn’t; she’s glad that they are. 

“A job well done for the Ghouligans,” she says. “Now can we get the fuck out of here?”


End file.
